


Playing It

by T Verano (t_verano)



Category: The Sentinel (TV)
Genre: 2013 TS Secret Santa Drabble Days prompt "snowball", M/M, Snowball fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-09
Updated: 2013-12-09
Packaged: 2020-04-08 01:23:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19096876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/t_verano/pseuds/T%20Verano
Summary: They need more wood for the fireplace. Jim doesn't want to go outside to get it.





	Playing It

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 2013 TS Secret Santa Drabble Days prompt "snowball"

This was the life. Rustic cabin in the snowy wilderness, comfortable sofa to sprawl on, mug of Irish coffee at hand, a fire crackling in the fireplace —

And the stack of logs running low. Damn.

Jim rubbed his chin. "Chief, you want to bring in some more firewood?"

Blair didn't look up from the book he was reading. "It's your turn."

True, but immaterial. "You're closer to the door." The armchair Blair was sitting in _was_ closer to the door, if only by about three feet.

Blair still didn't look up. "It's your turn," he said again, absently.

Still immaterial. "Didn't you say this morning that you needed to get more exercise?"

"I'll start tomorrow."

"Good opportunity to start right now; we're running low."

"Door's that way." Blair jerked his head toward the door without looking away from his book.

Stubborn little shit. Time for Plan B. "Thing is, I just got my knee comfortable," Jim said. "I don't want to —"

"Your knee?" Blair looked up, frowning, and put his book on the end table. "What happened to your knee? _When_ did something happen to your knee, you didn't —"

"Easy, Chief, it's nothing serious." 

"You hurt your knee when we were hiking this morning and didn't tell me? Jim —"

"No, I didn't hurt it hiking. Relax, Sandburg. It's just an old snowball injury; sometimes acts up when the weather's —"

"'An old snowball injury'." Blair narrowed his eyes.

"Yep. December of '73. Steven cheated, got me right behind the knee with a —"

"With an old snowball. Right. Got it." Blair's voice could've rivaled the Sahara in dryness. "Guess I'd better go out and bring in some firewood, then."

"Seems like the wisest course."

Blair nodded. He stood and walked to the door, started putting on his parka and boots. "Since you're so comfortable on the couch, your knee's all settled and everything, maybe you should spend the night there, too."

Jim frowned. So that was the way he was going to play it.

"Unless you want to help me bring in the firewood, Jim, in which case —"

"It's a one-person job, Chief. You've already got your coat on; why should both of us go out in the…. Ah." Jim could feel his lips quirk into a smile against his will. There was zero chance that Blair wasn't planning some sort of snowball — or maybe icicle — attack if he could get Jim outside. "Snowballs or blue balls, huh? Now you're playing —"

"Hard ball, absolutely." Blair was biting his lip the way he did when he was fighting a smile.

"I was going to say playing with fire."

"Jim. You in or out?" The smile won the battle.

There was no resisting that particular smile — or that line. Jim stood up. "Out first, in later."

Blair groaned. "Right. Bring it, O Mighty King of Innuendo."

There was no resisting that particular light in Blair's eyes, either. Jim found himself grinning as he headed for the door.


End file.
